


Does This Marriage Come With Any Perks?

by pterawaters



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Healing, M/M, Major Character Injury, Soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 07:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: After Danny suffers a life-threatening injury, he finds himself in Steve’s care. He doesn’t remember much about what happened after getting shot, but he’s pretty sure signing a marriage certificate wasn’t something he’d forget.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 26
Kudos: 193
Collections: Ptera's Follower Celebration Fics





	Does This Marriage Come With Any Perks?

**Author's Note:**

> A while back, I hit a follower milestone on tumblr. To celebrate, I polled my followers for their favorite fandoms, characters, settings, and tropes. I then took the choices with the most votes and turned them into fics. This is the second celebration fic! I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Favorite character: Steve McGarrett (9 votes), Danny Williams (4 votes), Lou Grover and Nahele Huikala (1 vote each)  
> Favorite setting: McGarrett House (10 votes)  
> Favorite trope: Major Injury/Almost Died AND Fake Dating (4 votes each), Amnesia fic (3 votes)  
> Props suggested: hammer, blanket, marriage license
> 
> Trigger warnings: Mention of gun violence, memory loss

The first thing Danny realized was that his tongue felt really dry. Cotton-ball dry. So did his throat. What the hell did he do? Had Jerry talked him into one too many Blue Hawaiians again? Shit.

Then he tried to move. A lance of pain shot through his body, making him groan. The pain seemed to be coming from his chest. He pushed down his blankets and pulled up his shirt, finding a bandage on the right side of his rib cage.

Oh, right.

He’d been in the hospital.

At least he wasn’t there anymore. As he blinked and his eyes got used to being open, he realized he was in Steve’s house. Why didn’t that surprise him?

And how long had he been out of commission? Were his kids okay? Were they missing him? Had they seen him _like this_?

Ugh, his tongue!

Finding a glass of water on the table next to the bed, Danny picked it up. The bubbles stuck to the sides meant it was going to be unpleasantly warm, but Danny honestly wasn’t sure he could handle water as cold as he normally liked it, just above freezing.

It was wet, anyway.

The sun was streaming into the east-facing windows, so Danny figured it would be an okay time to get out of bed. He got up, wincing at how every movement caused the wound or whatever it was in his ribs to flare up with pain. Entirely too practiced at being injured, Danny worked his way through it and went to the bathroom.

After using the facilities and washing his hands, he opened the door to see a tall silhouette of a man standing there. Flinching at the surprise, Danny muttered, “Jesus, Steve. You’re gonna give me a heart attack!”

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Danny gestured back at the toilet, wincing again when something pulled. “Ow. What happened, anyway?”

With a concerned frown, Steve asked, “You still don’t remember?”

Danny waved his hand and trudged through the bedroom, heading for the hallway. “Pain pills always make me a little loopy. I broke my ankle during high school and completely forgot asking out Nicole Agnelli. Whoo, she was pissed.”

He trudged down the stairs, Steve hovering just behind him, hissing, “Be careful!”

Ignoring Steve’s mother-henning, Danny told him, “Okay, now I remember getting shot. It was that Linden guy, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Steve told him, corralling Danny over to the living room couch. “Sit down.”

Danny was about to argue that he’d just been resting for who knows how long, and he didn’t _need_ to sit down, but he was feeling kind of winded, actually. He carefully sat down, lowering himself onto the couch. “How bad was I hit, anyway? How long have I been out of it?”

Sitting down on the other end of the couch, Steve met Danny’s eyes for a second before he winced. “Almost three weeks.”

“Shit.” Danny sighed, scratching a little at an itchy part of his chest under the shirt. “Are my kids okay?”

“They miss you, but they’re okay.” Steve shifted a little closer. “You’ve had a few lucid moments this week, and you got to video chat a few times.”

“That does sound familiar.” Sighing again and glancing toward the kitchen, he asked, “You got anything to eat?”

“Yeah! Yes!” Steve said, jumping to his feet. He handed Danny the TV remote before saying, “Watch out,” and spreading a blanket over Danny’s lap. “I will be back with some soup in a minute.”

“Wow, _soup_ ,” Danny said with a laugh. “Here I thought you were gonna make me a peanut butter and jelly.”

“Hey, I’ve learned a few things over the years.” He smiled at Danny as he backed out of the room. “The Williams family medicinal soup, coming right up.”

Danny rolled his eyes and turned on the TV, hoping he could find something distracting enough to keep the pain manageable long enough to start weaning off the pain pills. After all, he couldn’t keep forgetting he’d been shot every day until he was healed. That was no way to live, and it was no way to treat Steve’s hospitality, making him explain it over and over again. Nah. Danny was tough. He could handle a little pain.

~*~

Though watching TV and the good old Williams family medicinal soup (not too badly prepared, actually) did help Danny stave off the pain, eventually it became unbearable. Putting a hand against his throbbing side, Danny called out, “Hey, Steve!”

Noises had been coming from the downstairs bedroom for a while, so Danny wasn’t surprised when Steve came out of the room with a hammer in his hand. “Yeah, Danny?”

“I know they make me loopy, but I think I need one of those pain pills, hey?”

“Right.” Steve gave a sharp nod and went in the direction of the kitchen. When he came back, he handed a bottle of pills to Danny and set a glass of water on the end table beside him. “Just one of those, okay?”

“One. Sure.”

As Steve headed back to the bedroom, presumably to keep building whatever he was building, Danny read the label on the bottle. He trusted Steve, of course, but it never hurt to double check the dosage.

Wait a second.

“Steve? Why does this bottle say ‘McGarrett, Daniel’ on it?”

“Just a mixup at the pharmacy,” he called back. “It’s fine, Danno! Just take your meds.”

Shrugging, Danny opened the bottle and shook one of the pills out into his hand. Moving his arm to reach the glass of water made him wince, but he still called out, “What are you doing in there, anyway?”

“Just some stuff,” Steve called back. He stuck his head back into the living room. “Changes I’ve been wanting to make forever, but never had a chance. I figure since I can’t exactly leave you alone in the house for long, I might as well be productive.”

Danny swallowed his pill, wincing again when he put the water glass back on the table. “Do you realize how insane you sound? Do you know how many people would give anything to have a whole week off work?”

Steve frowned and came further into the room. “Danny, it’s been almost three weeks since you got shot. I’ve been taking care of you here for half that long.”

“Three _weeks_?”

Steve nodded.

“No wonder you needed a project.”

Steve grinned and then chuckled, turning away from Danny and shaking his head. “Drink some more of that water. You’re supposed to stay well hydrated while you’re healing.”

“God, you’re even more of a mother hen than _I_ am, and I learned from the best.”

Steve went back to his hammering without comment.

~*~

When Danny woke up from a nap on the couch, the TV had been turned off and there was a tray of sliced vegetables on the table in front of him. He remembered this time why he was at Steve’s house, though it did take him a moment or two upon waking to piece it together again. He ate the food that had been left for him, but found it wanting. “Where‘s a nice ham sandwich when you need one?” he grumbled to himself.

Groaning a little with pain as he got out of the couch, Danny wondered if it was time for some pain meds yet. It wasn’t too bad, so he figured maybe he could switch to the over-the-counter stuff. Where was Steve? He would know what the doctor said was okay.

“Steve?” Danny called as he made his way into the kitchen. “Steven? Where are you?”

No response.

There was a post-it at Steve’s eye level — not Danny’s — stuck to the fridge. “Gone on a supply run. Back by 4 pm.”

“Well, that explains that,” Danny said, sighing as he opened the fridge. Five minutes later, he had a sandwich and more than a little pain in his side. When he spotted a pile of what looked like hospital paperwork, Danny figured maybe there would be a handout or something in there about the kind of pain meds that didn’t make him all loopy. He’d seen enough drug offenders who’d gotten that way after an injury and taking the meds their doctors prescribed to know he didn’t want to go down that road himself.

“Let’s see... Discharge paperwork, prescription, wound care info, marriage license, medication schedule. Ah ha!”

_Wait._

_Marriage license?_

Making a mess of the pile in his haste to get back to that one piece of paper, Danny scrambled until he found it. Pulling the license out of the stack, Danny held it in his trembling hand. He had to set it back down to get it still enough for the words to be legible. Spouse 1 was Steven J. McGarrett. Spouse 2 was Daniel R. Williams, now Daniel R. McGarrett. He skimmed the rest before looking up and seeing the date at the top. It was dated over two years ago.

What the actual fuck was going on here?

Danny scrutinized his supposed signature in the correct box. It was a damn good forgery, but it _was_ a forgery just the same.

Taking a deep breath, Danny tried to figure out his game plan. Obviously, this called for a confrontation. Perhaps, somewhere in that explosion-addled brain of Steve’s, this all made some sort of sick sense. It wasn’t like Danny had done this while on meds and _forgotten_. He could remember two years ago with no problem. Plus, there was the fact that his signature was forged. If Danny had to take a guess, he’d say the state seal embossed on the paper was also forged.

Why would Steve do this? Was it some sort of wish fulfillment on his part? Should Danny have seen this coming? He’d thought he was pretty good at reading Steve’s emotions. Had Steve been hiding his feelings for Danny this whole time, or was it a more recent development?

On the other hand, there was a nonzero chance that this had nothing to do with feelings, and had been expedient for some other reason. Had Rachel tried to pull something while Danny was unconscious? Maybe Steve had just been protecting him? But why go to these lengths?

Well, the only thing to do was ask, he supposed.

~*~

By the time Steve got home, Danny’s pain was almost unbearable. He recognized that he probably should have taken something for it, but he wanted to be as clear-headed as he could be for this conversation. The door opened and Steve found Danny sitting on the couch, the marriage license lined up square in the center of the coffee table in front of him.

“Uh, hey,” Steve said, his eyes wide as he slowly closed the door behind him. He gave Danny a long glance before his eyes landed on the piece of paper on the table. Danny watched as he winced and moved closer to the table, like he wanted to confirm his suspicion. “What’s— What’s going on?”

Danny closed his eyes and took a slow breath, trying to control the pain in his side. Eyes still closed, he asked, “Do you want to tell me why you forged my signature on a…” Opening his eyes and glaring at Steve, Danny finished his thought, “On a fucking _marriage_ license?”

“I…”

As Danny watched Steve’s face, it was obvious he was trying to spin this.

“Tell me the _truth_.”

Steve opened his mouth, but all that came out was a plaintive, “ _Danno_ …”

God, he couldn’t even tell Danny the truth, could he? Steve was so used to getting his way, to _immunity and means_ , that he was incapable of recognizing that some lines should _not_ be crossed. “Did you even _ask_ me before doing this?”

“I— I couldn’t,” Steve said, holding his hands out toward Danny like that was supposed to help Danny feel more forgiving. “You weren’t waking up, and Rachel and your mother were fighting about who got to make decisions about your care. So, I…”

Groaning at the sharp pain that lanced through him as he stood up, Danny told Steve, “You had _no right_.”

Steve bit his lips and nodded. “I was going to have my guy erase the record when you were recovered.”

“Oh, that makes it all okay, then,” Danny said with a scoff. He shook his head and clenched his fist. As an acknowledgment of his and Steve’s friendship, Danny didn’t try to punch him in the face. Instead, he headed for the door.

“Danny…”

Opening the door, Danny walked through it. Every step hurt, the wound in his side pulling and aching as he walked. He opened the door with his left hand, not his right, to avoid more pain, but there was more pain all the same. Danny hissed, but he kept going, leaving the house, sweating bullets.

Steve’s truck sat out front, but Danny’s car was no where to be seen. Back at HQ, maybe? Or at his house? Hopefully not at the impound lot.

Patting the pockets of his sweatpants, Danny realized he had no idea where his wallet was. Or his keys. He only had his phone, after badgering it away from Steve the day before. What would it take to get his keys back? His car?

The idea that he was trapped here made Danny’s blood boil with frustration. Maybe if he opened his mouth and just _screamed_ he would feel better about this.

Behind him, Steve said in a soft voice, “I’ll take you home, if you want me to.”

Danny whipped around, but before he could say anything, a sharp pain in his side made him gasp and falter. Steve was there in an instant, catching him, holding him steady.

His voice still soft, Steve asked, “Can I get you back to the couch?”

Danny frowned at him, but there was no way he could even _think_ about enduring a car ride on Steve’s bumpy road while in this much pain. His teeth clenched, he said something like, “ _Fine_.”

The trek back to the couch was so difficult that it made Danny tremble, his skin clammy with sweat. Steve eased him down onto it and covered him with a blanket. He showed the same sort of care that he’d been showing all week. It made it hard to stay mad at him. Steve went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, which he handed to Danny, and the bottle of pills, which he set down on the coffee table next to the marriage license.

Danny took a few sips of water as he gathered his thoughts.

Before he could articulate any of them, Steve said, “All I wanted to do was take care of you.” The look on his face was so open, and so tender that the last of Danny’s anger faded away.

His voice softer than he meant it to be, Danny asked, “You needed a fake marriage certificate to be able to do that?”

Moving closer, Steve sat on the couch beside Danny. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, eyes looking past the coffee table, past the office, out to the ocean beyond. After a moment, he sighed, “I guess not. It was just… _easier_.”

“Easier than what?”

“Than—” Steve took a sharp breath, cutting himself off. “Never mind. I’ll have my guy wipe the record from the books.”

“What am I supposed to tell my mother?” Danny asked him. “Oh, sorry. Steve was just playing a prank while I was sleeping?”

Steve’s jaw muscle bulged and he jutted out his chin for a second. The he licked his lips nervously and looked over at Danny. “There were a few days there where we thought you might not make it. Rachel was talking about all these funeral plans, and…” His eyes got shiny. “You would have hated _all_ of it. I couldn’t let her do that to you, not when I could stop her.”

“She’s my ex. My mom could’ve overruled her,” Danny pointed out.

“Your mom was a wreck.”

Danny had spoken to her twice in the past two days, as far as he could remember. She’d been her normal, fussy self, and told him she was getting on a plane in a few days. She hadn’t asked about Steve being his husband. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Steve shook his head and pointed to the license. “I only showed it to the hospital admins so they would stop listening to Rachel. I told them you didn’t want anyone to know.”

Danny frowned at this. Did Steve think he had a problem with same sex marriage? Or that he wouldn’t want his parents thinking he was married to a guy? They wouldn’t care; they’d be happy for him. Maybe the same couldn’t be said for Steve’s mother?

Why hadn’t Steve forged the power of attorney paperwork? Why had he jumped right to marriage? It would have been simpler not to. It would’ve been simpler for Steve to claim he was Danny’s best friend. Marriage was… marriage was complicated. It suggested a relationship they didn’t have.

And Steve was being a control freak about it.

That told Danny much more than he figured Steve wanted him to know.

Sighing a bit and putting a hand over the spot where the worst of the pain was coming from, Danny asked, “Well, does this marriage come with any perks?”

A slight smile tugged at the side of Steve’s mouth. “Besides someone to wait on you hand and foot while you recover?”

“Yeah, besides that,” Danny said, reaching out for the bottle of pain pills, but making no effort to get it himself.

Steve leaned forward far enough to grab the bottle and handed it to Danny. “What sort of perks are you talking about? I’m almost done fixing the downstairs bedroom for you.”

Danny took the pill bottle and opened it. Throwing back one of the pills and following it with a gulp of water, Danny asked, “Filing joint taxes?”

Steve gave a breath of a chuckle. “Could sell your house. Not have to pay the mortgage _and_ all that property tax.”

“Hmm.”

“I can make you that special Williams family soup whenever you want,” Steve offered, his smile growing.

Still not sure Steve wasn’t just joking, Danny decided to go for broke. “Would you kiss me?”

His smile faltering, Steve asked, “Like, for show? So people believe it?”

Danny shook his head. “Just because you wanted to.”

“Would _you_ want to?”

“Depends how good you are at kissing.”

Steve laughed, but when he looked over at Danny, he looked vulnerable, maybe almost scared. God, For as scary as Steve could be, he was really gooey on the inside, wasn’t he?

Reaching for him, Danny murmured, “C’mere.”

Without hesitation, he moved closer to Danny, watching his face with laser focus, like he was afraid Danny would take it back, or laugh at him or something. Danny wanted to punch everyone in his life who’d made Steve feel that way. A hand on the back of his neck, Danny pulled Steve close and kissed him.

Maybe it was the painkillers kicking in, but the ache in Danny’s side ebbed, and by the time Steve pulled back, he was feeling almost _giddy_.

Steve grinned too, and then he laughed, shaking his head and sitting back on the couch. Looking out the window again, he asked Danny, “You still want me to delete the record?”

After a long pause, looking out on that same ocean and thinking it over, Danny replied, “I mean… that’s a lot of trouble to go to.”

Steve shifted closer, his arm around Danny’s shoulders. “It _is_ a lot of trouble to go to. Would be easier to just leave it on the books.”

“Though maybe as a wedding present,” Danny said, smiling over at Steve, “you could change my name back. Marriage is one thing. Changing my name to McGarrett is another thing altogether.”

Steve looked like he was gearing up to argue, so Danny kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you thought of this one in the comments below! You can find out more about me and my writing [on tumblr](https://pterawaters.tumblr.com/).


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